


Not Even Fate

by PolarGrizz47



Series: What If [3]
Category: The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:13:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: “I sent him to his death,” He whispers, sounding lost.





	Not Even Fate

**Author's Note:**

> And now for something not hopelessly sad!! :3

Sean cannot believe his ears. His heart skips a beat in his chest and his palms begin to sweat even as he clenches them tightly.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” He snaps, unable to control his temper as he stands there with Ian and Connor in the Chapel. “It should be _me_ going out there -- not Zachariah. He’s too young --”

“I’m sorry,” The Great Master cuts in, his expression somber. “I tried to reason with them. But they want Zachariah. He’s our most recent, official Technomancer. They need him on the front lines.”

“No,” Sean shakes his head stubbornly. “They need _me_.”

Connor’s lips thin and he glances between the two taller man before he confesses, “They want you to train more recruits. How you’ve trained Zachariah is brilliant - and _quick_. That’s what they care about.”

Guilt sinks its sharp, rusty fangs into him. Sean stiffens.

“I sent him to his death,” He whispers, sounding lost.

Ian reaches a hand out to steady Sean, gently guiding him to take a seat on the nearest bench. He sits heavily beside Sean, shaking his head. “No. No, _you_ did not. You gave him the skills he needs to get through this -”

“The army sent him,” Connor stresses, his eyes are dark for a moment, memories from his own time on the front line creeping up like tar, grasping at him desperately. The mancer shakes it off as best able, a shiver rattling through him.

Sean feels helplessly trapped. “There’s got to be something we can do…”

“Not enough time.” Ian squeezes his shoulder. “They’re sending him with the late night train tonight.”

“ _Tonight_?” His voice raises in pitch, terror, and agony. “No… No, isn’t there anything you can do? _Anything_?”

“I’ve tried,” Ian intones, his eyes pained. “Even the Captain wanted to keep him here longer if only to train him alongside her men but… the General himself put the orders through.”

“This doesn’t sit well with me,” Connor muttered, “It seems as though… they’re pressing our youngest - and one of our best,” His eyes flicker to Sean, even as the man sits there, lost in his own inner turmoil. “They’re trying to weaken you by separating the both of you while the connection is fresh and strong.”

“They’ll do anything to find out our truth,” Ian agrees, squeezing Sean’s shoulder tighter. “You must be strong. For us. And for Zachariah.”

-:-

Zachariah looked so young in his official technomancer armor, the darkness slimming him down and hugging his frame tightly. Sean’s hands were still clenched, even if he tried to loosen them. He replays Ian’s words of wisdom over and over in his head.

_Be strong. For Zachariah._

“I didn’t think I’d be leaving so soon,” Zachariah starts, his voice small before he clears his throat, trying to hide the terror that crept into his tone. “It… It’ll be weird. Getting out of the city.”

Sean nods. He doesn’t know what to say at first, so lost in his own resentment towards Abundance. Zach meets his eyes, desperation shining in his gaze.

Finally, Sean steps closer and offers a hollow smile. “Remember your training, Zachariah.” He wishes they weren’t at the train station. He wishes they were somewhere more private, where he can speak plainly. Where he can touch and soothe the fear that bubbles inside both of their chests. Kiss one last time.

It stings in their chest, the truth of the situation. The hopelessness of it all.

The younger mancer nods stiffly, clenching and then unclenching his hands to test the fit of the new gloves. “This gear is… tight.”

“You get used to it,” Sean manages a dull smile. It suits Zachariah, as much as he loathes to admit it. Even if it branded the younger man as an Abundance soldier and weapon, it would help keep him safe.

They stand there in silence again, staring at each other. So many words they want to say go unspoken. So many things they want to do, so much time _wasted_ in training.

Sean should’ve cherished it more. Drew it out a little.

“I’ll see you again, right?” Zachariah finally croaks, his voice breaking before he manages to snap his mouth closed.

Sean almost hugs him right then, his hands moving for a moment before he reigns himself in and stands straight, disciplined.

“Of course, Zachariah. Not even fate can keep up apart.” He whispers it like a confession and the younger’s lips raise in a weak smile.

When the train finally leaves, Sean stands there on the platform for a long while. He can feel Zachariah’s nervous charge slowly seeping out of him and it breaks his heart. He wishes he could’ve held him, one last time.

“A pity indeed. He seemed quite promising, for a Mancer.” A deep, smug voice resounds from behind him. Sean’s jaw tenses and his eyes narrow as he turns to face Viktor Watcher, straightening his shoulders. Viktor looked at him with dark gray eyes, calculating. “It must be hard, seeing somebody that you trained and watched grow being sent off to fight. Though it is a glorious thing,” He smiles at it makes Sean’s skin crawl but he nods silently.

The ASC goons are patrolling the station and the older mancer stands a little taller, looking at Viktor critically.

“I know you probably don’t want to lose another one of your kind to war… so I come to propose a deal. Rumor has it that you technomancers have a… secret… and we both already know that I can pull strings everywhere in this city. _No one_ is safe from my influence,” His smile is sharp. “So… what’s a little back scratching between friends, hm?”

Sean narrows his eyes, though merely inclines his head in apology. “I’m dreadfully sorry to disappoint you, Colonel, but I don’t know what secret we could be hiding.”

Viktor hums low in his throat as Sean goes to walk by him but quickly reaches a hand out to squeeze at the mancer’s wrist. They both pause and Sean turns his head to meet Viktor’s intense gaze.

“Consider it,” The Watcher says with false kindness. “It is much better to have me as an ally than an _enemy_.”

When his hand is released, Sean merely keeps walking, his posture perfect and his body at ease even if he can taste blood in his mouth from how hard he’d been biting his tongue.

-:-

Zach wipes the blood from a cut below his cheekbone, blinking past the tears that are jerked to his eyes from the sheer pain. He crawls into a dugout to hide from the sun overhead, a hand pressed to his bleeding side.

His staff is broken and his armor is beginning to fray, but he was alive. Exhaustion nips at him as he slouches into the sand, cooled by the shade. The gunshots and smell of blood seem so distant to him in this temporary shelter and he slouches forward, hugging his weapon to his chest with a half-choked sob.

He was going to die out here, he was sure of it.

He’d seen so much death. So much blood. Both Aurora and Abundance troops had been slain. He’d killed so _many_ , their final expressions painted in his memory forever.

There’s the sound of gravel crunching above him and Zachariah tenses, shoving himself deeper into the shade as a person collapses into the dugout. He’s covered in blood, dust, and sweat, much like the young mancer. Instead of the black robes of Abundance, he wears a rusty brown color, tight to the skin and his gloves are unmistakable.

_Aurora technomancer._

Zachariah scrambles back, pointing his staff at the man, even if it was only about half of its usual length. The other man isn’t armed, and he shuffles back, hands open in a display of peace. He’s shaking, bad.

Finally, Zach can see the blood that coats the man’s left leg, a nail-gun shot jutting out of his upper thigh, the metal sticking up. He wets his lips, their eyes meet and Zachariah is struck by how unique they are.

One blue and the other red.

They stare at each other for a long moment until Zachariah lowers the staff and collapses back into the dirt. It hurts to breathe and his hand grasps desperately at his bloodied middle. He gasps deeply, trying to shut out the sounds of screaming and shooting further up the line. Aurora had them beat, and even if Zachariah had cut uncountable amounts of men down, it wasn’t enough.

The other mancer is staring at him, taking stock of his injuries and surely staring at how young he is. “They're sending kids now, huh?” He mutters, mostly to himself as he tenderly touches at his leg.

Zach shrugs, a bloodied smile briefly pulling at his chapped lips. “I didn’t have much of a choice… You?”

“Same boat as you,” He mutters, feeling bad for the poor kid. He glances at the sky, blinking at how the horizon begins to darken. “It’ll be night soon…”

He slumps against the dirt, wondering what happens now. “You gonna have your men kill me?”

“Hah,” The Aurora mancer smirks, eyes barely held open. “Not if I can help it…”

Zachariah blinks. “Don’t you hate us?”

“Nah… it's all politics. I don’t even _know_ you. All I know is that you're a technomancer, like me.”

Zach sniffs and coughs into his hand before he flinches at how it pulls at the wound cut into his side. Darkness begins to fall around them and he struggles to stay awake, half-slumped into himself for warmth.

“You got a name, kid?” The stranger asks lowly, sounding friendly enough.

He hesitates, debating on his options. He was pretty sure he was going to die already. Not like he had much to lose. The troops had left him behind anyway when they retreated. They probably thought that he was dead.

“Zach,” He whispers, “My name is Zach.”

The other mancer nods, mismatched eyes settling on his prone form. “Name’s Roy.”

They cherish the each other’s names for a moment, feeling more united for some reason. For the first time in a long time, they feel less alone.

-:-

Sean goes over their supplies again with Phobos, making restrictions where necessary and worrying over their medical once more. “Maybe the Prince has some more provisions we can use,” Phobos says quietly, breathing in the incense that coils around the air.

“I hate to impose…” Sean mutters, “But we do need them. I’ll ask him once he returns with Melvin from their stroll.”

He ticks off some of the supplies he’d like the Seeker to have access to and makes his way towards the mouth of the palace, only pausing stiffly as Melvin comes running up the stairs. He motions with his hand, gasping in a breath and leaning into Sean as the other mancer steadies him.

“What is it?” Sean asks softly, checking him over for injury. When he finds none, he looks at him, perplexed. “Are you alright? What happened?”

Melvin draws in another breath and manages to choke out, “Zach!”

Sean freezes, his eyes widening and his heart leaping hopefully despite himself.

His old friend smacks at his chest, then points with the same hand down the grand staircase and towards the western entrance of Noctis. There’s an unspoken urgency to the motion, and Sean passes him their notes before he takes off, smoothly descending the stairs until his feet hit the main road and he breaks into a sprint.

He slides around the corner to the west gate, pausing at all the people he sees gathering around. Mutant and human alike are chattering amongst themselves, the Prince himself standing in the middle of them, welcoming a group of weary travelers. There were four in total, all men.

One is a kid, young and hopeful eyed, but haunted in a way that Sean is familiar with. War.

The second is an older man, with an untamed beard and his chest bare to the environment. By his side stands a massive hound, looking at everyone with its beady eyes and tongue lolling out.

The third has a hood on and a duster but sweeps it off his head in order to shake hands and speak to the Prince. His hair is cut sharply, well maintained and his beard is only a shadow of stubborn stubble. He’s got a fresh cut through his brow and he wears a single glove on his right hand, a blade and a weapon strapped to his thigh.

The last one stands further back, a staff held loosely in his left hand, while his right hand is dressed in a dark glove. He wears a leather duster with a hood, his clothes look worn but suitable, sturdy. They’re covered in dust and sand, clearly, they’d been on the move for a while.

Sean stands there, staring, unable to shake the hopefulness that pounds through his blood.

Finally, the last man reaches up and pulls the hood off, blinking his eyes to adjust to the light of Noctis. He’s got a face full of familiar scars, and even some new ones, and Sean feels himself get lightheaded.

He steadies himself and moves forward, catching the older man’s dual-colored eyes. The stranger reaches a hand out, touching at Zach in some sort of warning. Even the hound stares as Sean steps through the crowd, and they part before him in a hush.

Zach’s face goes blank as he stares at Sean before a smile blooms radiantly across his features.

“Zachariah -” Sean starts, voice cracking with emotion as Zach suddenly slams into him, hands grasping at Sean like he’s a dream. He’s almost knocked right off his feet, but he manages to keep his balance as he wraps his own arms tightly around the younger mancer.

He cradles the back of Zach’s head in his left hand and grasps at his hip with his right, rocking him slowly from side to side as a sob is wrenched from Zachariah’s lips.

Sean buries his face into Zach’s throat, breathing him in and blinking fresh tears from his eyes. They roll down his cheeks gratefully, warm and wet, leaving dark splotches on the collar of Zachariah’s shirt.

For a while, they stand like that, swaying together, glued close. Breathing each other in, reminding themselves that it isn’t a dream.

Roy and Tenacity smile to themselves and Innocence watches, unable to look away. It’s been a long time since he’s seen such happiness and desperation. It warmed his heart, gave him hope.

When they finally pulled away long enough to look into each other's eyes, Zachariah sucked in a deep breath and laughed, smiling as he touched at Sean’s cheeks, “You’ve gotten tan,” He croaks, rubbing his thumbs over the wet tracks on the elder’s skin.

Sean was grinning like a fool, nodding before he pressed his forehead to Zach’s. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” Zachariah hushes, pulling Sean in closer before melding their lips together desperately.

He tastes of metal, sand, faint blood and something meatier from an earlier meal.

Sean doesn’t mind, in fact, he can’t get enough of it. He pulls Zach closer, deepens the kiss and smooths his hand up the other’s back, grasping desperately at the cracked leather, oiled by mole fat. He can feel Zachariah’s hands curling in his hair before the charge builds between them and they part with a little laugh as their touches cause a static to ripple across their clothes.

Sean sees Zachariah’s smile soften and it feels as though a weight has been lifted from his chest. He takes the man by the hands and pulls him closer, planting a gentle kiss to his forehead before he whispers, “I am so sorry… I should’ve tried -”

“No, no, Sean,” Zach pleads, reaching up with his own hands to pull him closer. “It’s okay… it was _their_ fault. Not yours… not ever yours,” He then takes Sean’s left hand again, locking their fingers. “I… I can’t believe you’re really here…”

Zach looks up at, eyes still shining with unshed tears despite the clean splotches against his cheeks.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Zach whispers, leaning heavily into Sean before the other man uses his right arm to wrap him up to his chest. He rests his head against the other’s chest, listening to Sean's heartbeat, letting it calm him.

Finally, they’re able to part, still holding hands as they walk back towards the palace.

“I have so much to tell you,” Sean whispers, fondly pressing a kiss to Zachariah’s hair.

Zach grins up at him, “And I have so much to share with you…”

Roy follows behind them, a smile resting easily on his face until he catches Tenacity’s eye. The old hound grins and gives him a prod in the ribs before reaching down and giving his hand a squeeze. Before he could pull away, Roy linked their fingers and gave him a shrug.

Innocence walked beside Tenacity and squeaked as the older man swung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a half hug.

“We made it, boys,” Tenacity grins, watching Sean and Zachariah sway together ahead of them.

They pass Melvin who is grinning with tears in his eyes, suddenly remembering all that they’ve lost, and all that they’ve gained. Dandolo easily slides in beside him and gently pulls him into a hug, pressing a hand down his shuddering sides.

When Zachariah and Sean walk into the palace, several other mancers gawk and come to share hugs and tears. They stand close to each other the entire time, still holding hands, walking on air. Sean introduced Zachariah to the others, and Scott had cried briefly as they saw each other for the first time in what felt like years.

Hours later, as they lay side by side in Sean’s new bedroom, their fingers locked and eyes focused on each other, Sean’s voice cracks as he whispers, “I thought I’d lost you.”

Zachariah strokes his face and presses a kiss to his lips. “You told me that not even fate could separate us,” He smiles along with his lover, “And it didn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine Sean leading the ragtag group tho!! He'd be so meticulous and devastating I think. But... I still ship these guys so much AAAAAAAAAA.


End file.
